Sorry, I kind of vanished last week. After the big hoopla of the reading on Monday and with the holiday on Thursday, I went into stealth mode ; ) My inner hermit needed time to recooperate.
This week, I've got the Local Author Book Fair in Pekin, Illinois. I'll be at the Pekin library on Friday and Saturday. I'm not entirely sure what time on Friday, but pretty much all day in Saturday. If you're in the area, please be sure to stop by!
I've been reading voraciously the last couple of weeks. I go through periods like that now. I used to read constantly. I'd feel bereft if there wasn't a book waiting for me after I finished the one I was currently reading. But with writing as much as I do (though, never enough!), I find that I go through phases where I can't read enough and other times when my brain is so full with what I'm writing, I don't seem to have time or inclination to read. : ) But here's a list of some terrific books I've discovered in the last month or so...
Industrial Magic by Kelley Armstrong -- another book in the Otherworld series. Narrated first person by a witch. Witches, werewolves, vampires, necromancers, oh my! It's a terrific series and this is one of my favorites.
The Fairy Godmother by Mercedes Lackey -- I picked this one up after hearing much discussion on the Paranormal Romance Listserv. I typically do not like fantasy novels, but this one is terrific! The true story of how fairy godmothers get their jobs and how all those fairy tales keep happening : )
Flashpoint by Suzanne Brockmann -- Suzanne Brockmann is one of the few contemporary romance novelists that I really enjoy, even without so much as a hint of paranormal in her stories. Exotic and dangerous locales and honorable military men...*sigh* my knees are weak!
Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine -- A MUCH better book than the movie. A young woman is cursed by her fairy godmother. She is given the "gift" of obedience. She has to do whatever someone commands. Throw in an apathetic father, evil stepmother and stepsisters, and a handsome prince who loves her for her humor but doesn't understand why she behaves the way she does, and you've got a great story! This is a young adult book. It is a Newberry Award finalist, I believe.
Wives and Sisters by Natalie R. Collins -- Fabulous, fabulous suspense story. A young woman raised in the strict Mormon church struggles to find the truth behind the disappearance of a childhood friend and the connection between that and all the bad stuff that keeps happening to her now. I haven't cried at a suspense novel in...well, I don't know if I've ever cried at a suspense novel, except this one. Truly, you will run the gamut of emotions with this book. Also, a fascinating look at the Mormon tradition/religion from a thoroughly disenchanted narrator.
And finally...
The Taken by Dean Koontz -- I used to read Mr. Koontz's books all the time as a kid...I must have had a much stronger constitution. This one kept scaring me! This one follows the adventure (if you can call a desperate bid for survival an adventure) of a couple in the midst of what appears to be first alien contact. But there is so much more to it that what it appears to be at first...
Also, make sure you check out Meg Cabot's blog today. She has a hysterical entry about what NOT to say to the writer(s) in your life!
Monday, November 29, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Murphy's Law...
I've noticed that the things that I worry about intensely, you know lose sleep and twist my stomach into unrecognizable knots over, those are the things that usually turn out okay. Like dreading that horrible confrontation with a friend or boss and then when you finally do it, the person is just like, "Yeah, okay, no big deal." And they stare at you, like why are you sweating so profusely while discussing this? But it's the other things--the events that you think are going to be great or the ones that you don't even really think of at all--that always blow up in your face in a rather dramatic fashion.
Fortunately, I nearly worried myself into a breakdown over the reading last night, so, of course, it was great! Okay, I was really, really nervous and probably was not the best reader ever. But I did not fall down, although I did almost fall out of the chair a couple times -- overvarnished chair and slippery cotton/lycra blend pants are a bad combination, just in case you were wondering. My legs were totally aching this morning from pushing against the chair rung to hold myself in place, I kid you not. But I didn't throw up -- yea me! And there weren't too many people there, nor were there too few -- just perfect : )
So here's how it went down. I took the train in because I'm a big city driving sissy, which means I won't drive in the city except in dire circumstances, and even then my first vote will be for public transportation. I went to my husband's building, which was kind of fun. It's always weird to see someone familiar to you in a work setting. He's so responsible there, you know? At home this is the man who...never mind, I better not finish that sentence : ) It'll get me in trouble, even though I'm only teasing!(Love you, sweetie *grin*) I met a lot of fun people who wanted to talk about writing and books, which was great.
At around 6:30, Alisa, the reviewer who'd put me in touch with Twilight Tales for the reading came by to pick me up and drive me over to the reading -- so very nice of her!! I'd mentioned that I'd be taking a cab (my husband had to finish up work and would meet us later) and she volunteered to get me instead : )
Twilight Tales, a weekly reading series, is held in the upstairs room of the Red Lion Pub. The Red Lion is this really cool, old-looking, authentic (to me, anyway) English pub. Plus, the upstairs room is rumored to be haunted. Though, I have to say, I didn't see or hear anything unusual while we were there, for which I'm very grateful. I really enjoy the paranormal...just from a distance.
As soon as we walked in, I saw my friends, Karen and Sanjay. I was so excited! Karen hadn't told me they were coming, so it was this great surprise!!! We decided to eat together, so we placed our orders at the bar and went upstairs. The upstairs is kind of dim and pub-like, or what I imagine pubs to look like, never having been in a real one, you know, in England or Ireland. Dark heavy furniture, beams on the wall, low lighting, pleasant levels of low conversation and the murmur from the television below. It smelled of old building, smoke and beer, but not in that gross way. Just in that comforting sort of familiar way.
The crowd grew to include my husband, my brother, several of my husband's co-workers and his friends from volleyball -- all of whom were nice enough to come out and listen to someone they'd never even met before!
Twilight Tales always has two readers, and when asked my preference, I said I wanted to go second. Yes, I'd be nervous longer, but I'd get to see how the first person did it. There were lots of questions inherent in this that I'd never thought about before. Like, could you stop whenever you wanted to get a sip of water? If you messed up in reading, do you acknowledge it and correct it? Do you announce new chapters as you're reading?
The answers to those questions, near as I can tell are, Yes. Yes, but only if you can do so unobtrusively. And, yes. At least, I did.
The other writer, Jim Doherty, I think his name was -- I don't have his book here in front of me-- was a police officer who'd published short stories and articles and was working on his first book. So, he read one of his articles, a short story and an excerpt from his novel. I enjoyed hearing him read, and I really liked his short story, a different take on Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart." Of course, being the pretty sheltered person that I am, I was also fascinated that he wore his gun and his badge on his belt during the reading. I mean, he had them on the whole time, it's just that when he sat down to read, I noticed them because I was sitting pretty close to the front. There's a line in The Silver Spoon, where Zara sees Nevan with a gun and realizes how much bigger it looks when it's pointed at her. That was based on a startling moment when I passed in close proximity to one of the armed guards here changing out the trays in our ATM. Not that the guard pointed it at me or anything, but just that guns always seem bigger and scarier to me when they're near me versus on television.
Anyway, once Jim was done reading, it was my turn. The great thing about this venue was that it was small and cozy. I was still nervous, but there weren't more people there than could have fit in my living room and dining room. That helped me relax. Plus, they had this really bright light over the reading chair, so while that was scary at first, it actually helped. Made it harder to see anyone in the darkness watching me.
I started off, highly conscious of where I was and what I was doing. But after a few minutes, I got into the flow, felt the familiar words passing over through me and got into it enough that sometimes I'd forget to be self-conscious. So much so that a couple times when people laughed, it actually startled me. That was another interesting thing. People found different things funny than I did as the writer. Not to say that they were laughing at the wrong places, or anything. Just not the places I would have picked if someone said, "Find me a funny line in your book." But that was great. Because one of the cool things about writing is that you discover different people get different things out of it, often something on a level entirely other than what you intended. How cool is that?!?
Once I got going, the only time I felt weird up there was when I stopped for a chapter break and took a sip of water. Because then you can feel this sort of hushed silence and all this attention bearing down on you -- they're waiting for you to start again. I never realized that you could feel that kind of attention directed at you, but you can. Almost like a weight against your skin. It was really interesting and flattering too, I think, that people would listen that closely. Though, I can tell you now very clearly that I would never want to be an actor or performer. *shudder*
Afterward, I signed a few more books, then we packed up and went home. Overall, a very satisfying and happy evening. Thank you to everyone who came out last night, and to Alisa and Eric for getting this set up for me! I had fun and I really appreciate the support of everyone who bought a book or came to listen : )
Fortunately, I nearly worried myself into a breakdown over the reading last night, so, of course, it was great! Okay, I was really, really nervous and probably was not the best reader ever. But I did not fall down, although I did almost fall out of the chair a couple times -- overvarnished chair and slippery cotton/lycra blend pants are a bad combination, just in case you were wondering. My legs were totally aching this morning from pushing against the chair rung to hold myself in place, I kid you not. But I didn't throw up -- yea me! And there weren't too many people there, nor were there too few -- just perfect : )
So here's how it went down. I took the train in because I'm a big city driving sissy, which means I won't drive in the city except in dire circumstances, and even then my first vote will be for public transportation. I went to my husband's building, which was kind of fun. It's always weird to see someone familiar to you in a work setting. He's so responsible there, you know? At home this is the man who...never mind, I better not finish that sentence : ) It'll get me in trouble, even though I'm only teasing!(Love you, sweetie *grin*) I met a lot of fun people who wanted to talk about writing and books, which was great.
At around 6:30, Alisa, the reviewer who'd put me in touch with Twilight Tales for the reading came by to pick me up and drive me over to the reading -- so very nice of her!! I'd mentioned that I'd be taking a cab (my husband had to finish up work and would meet us later) and she volunteered to get me instead : )
Twilight Tales, a weekly reading series, is held in the upstairs room of the Red Lion Pub. The Red Lion is this really cool, old-looking, authentic (to me, anyway) English pub. Plus, the upstairs room is rumored to be haunted. Though, I have to say, I didn't see or hear anything unusual while we were there, for which I'm very grateful. I really enjoy the paranormal...just from a distance.
As soon as we walked in, I saw my friends, Karen and Sanjay. I was so excited! Karen hadn't told me they were coming, so it was this great surprise!!! We decided to eat together, so we placed our orders at the bar and went upstairs. The upstairs is kind of dim and pub-like, or what I imagine pubs to look like, never having been in a real one, you know, in England or Ireland. Dark heavy furniture, beams on the wall, low lighting, pleasant levels of low conversation and the murmur from the television below. It smelled of old building, smoke and beer, but not in that gross way. Just in that comforting sort of familiar way.
The crowd grew to include my husband, my brother, several of my husband's co-workers and his friends from volleyball -- all of whom were nice enough to come out and listen to someone they'd never even met before!
Twilight Tales always has two readers, and when asked my preference, I said I wanted to go second. Yes, I'd be nervous longer, but I'd get to see how the first person did it. There were lots of questions inherent in this that I'd never thought about before. Like, could you stop whenever you wanted to get a sip of water? If you messed up in reading, do you acknowledge it and correct it? Do you announce new chapters as you're reading?
The answers to those questions, near as I can tell are, Yes. Yes, but only if you can do so unobtrusively. And, yes. At least, I did.
The other writer, Jim Doherty, I think his name was -- I don't have his book here in front of me-- was a police officer who'd published short stories and articles and was working on his first book. So, he read one of his articles, a short story and an excerpt from his novel. I enjoyed hearing him read, and I really liked his short story, a different take on Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart." Of course, being the pretty sheltered person that I am, I was also fascinated that he wore his gun and his badge on his belt during the reading. I mean, he had them on the whole time, it's just that when he sat down to read, I noticed them because I was sitting pretty close to the front. There's a line in The Silver Spoon, where Zara sees Nevan with a gun and realizes how much bigger it looks when it's pointed at her. That was based on a startling moment when I passed in close proximity to one of the armed guards here changing out the trays in our ATM. Not that the guard pointed it at me or anything, but just that guns always seem bigger and scarier to me when they're near me versus on television.
Anyway, once Jim was done reading, it was my turn. The great thing about this venue was that it was small and cozy. I was still nervous, but there weren't more people there than could have fit in my living room and dining room. That helped me relax. Plus, they had this really bright light over the reading chair, so while that was scary at first, it actually helped. Made it harder to see anyone in the darkness watching me.
I started off, highly conscious of where I was and what I was doing. But after a few minutes, I got into the flow, felt the familiar words passing over through me and got into it enough that sometimes I'd forget to be self-conscious. So much so that a couple times when people laughed, it actually startled me. That was another interesting thing. People found different things funny than I did as the writer. Not to say that they were laughing at the wrong places, or anything. Just not the places I would have picked if someone said, "Find me a funny line in your book." But that was great. Because one of the cool things about writing is that you discover different people get different things out of it, often something on a level entirely other than what you intended. How cool is that?!?
Once I got going, the only time I felt weird up there was when I stopped for a chapter break and took a sip of water. Because then you can feel this sort of hushed silence and all this attention bearing down on you -- they're waiting for you to start again. I never realized that you could feel that kind of attention directed at you, but you can. Almost like a weight against your skin. It was really interesting and flattering too, I think, that people would listen that closely. Though, I can tell you now very clearly that I would never want to be an actor or performer. *shudder*
Afterward, I signed a few more books, then we packed up and went home. Overall, a very satisfying and happy evening. Thank you to everyone who came out last night, and to Alisa and Eric for getting this set up for me! I had fun and I really appreciate the support of everyone who bought a book or came to listen : )
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Tomorrow...
So tomorrow is the big day. I have my book reading in the city. And I'm scared to death : ) I've always talked too quickly, especially when I'm nervous. My dad was forever telling me (and still does) "Slow down, Stace, take a breath." Well, I'm not very good at that, I guess. I practiced the reading today, the first three chapters of The Silver Spoon, and it came out to be anywhere between 45 and 50 minutes of reading, which works out perfectly. Of course, that was a practice run in my house. Alone.
I just want to do a good job. I like the first three chapters. I grew very fond of them as they were always the chapters I sent out to everyone under the sun when I was looking for an agent and a publishing company. So, I don't want to blow it. Read too fast or too monotone or choke on my own spit (you know how that happens when you're nervous and speaking?) That kind of thing always happens to me. Solos, speaking parts, anything that involves getting up in front of people. Except at work. I mean, I'm nervous then too, but I can do it because...well, because I have to. Weird, huh? I don't even really worry about it too much anymore when I speak up in meetings with 50 or more people around me, listening.
Some of that I'm sure is because at work I'm being paid to care and to do a good job. This writing is part of me, part of who I am. I could rant and rave about how it sucks that as a writer I have to get out there in front of people. I could say that writers are supposed to write, not perform. A lot of writers feel this way. But the thing is, maybe I should think about this more as an opportunity to introduce my book, my story, to people who might not have otherwise found it. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I like my story. I love it --flaws and all. It's my baby. And I'm proud to have had whatever limited role I had in bringing it out into the world, I guess. Writing to me is something bigger than an individual writer. It comes from somewhere else...at least for me. Writing and all the tasks associated with it, like readings, are a privilege, a gift.
I guess maybe I want more than just to do a good job. I guess I want to enjoy it. I want to have fun, relish the words and having someone to listen to them, if that makes sense.
Well, I guess we'll see what happens tomorrow. I'm not sure what time I'll be back tomorrow night, so I probably won't write about it here until Tuesday. But, please, think of me tomorrow! : )
I just want to do a good job. I like the first three chapters. I grew very fond of them as they were always the chapters I sent out to everyone under the sun when I was looking for an agent and a publishing company. So, I don't want to blow it. Read too fast or too monotone or choke on my own spit (you know how that happens when you're nervous and speaking?) That kind of thing always happens to me. Solos, speaking parts, anything that involves getting up in front of people. Except at work. I mean, I'm nervous then too, but I can do it because...well, because I have to. Weird, huh? I don't even really worry about it too much anymore when I speak up in meetings with 50 or more people around me, listening.
Some of that I'm sure is because at work I'm being paid to care and to do a good job. This writing is part of me, part of who I am. I could rant and rave about how it sucks that as a writer I have to get out there in front of people. I could say that writers are supposed to write, not perform. A lot of writers feel this way. But the thing is, maybe I should think about this more as an opportunity to introduce my book, my story, to people who might not have otherwise found it. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I like my story. I love it --flaws and all. It's my baby. And I'm proud to have had whatever limited role I had in bringing it out into the world, I guess. Writing to me is something bigger than an individual writer. It comes from somewhere else...at least for me. Writing and all the tasks associated with it, like readings, are a privilege, a gift.
I guess maybe I want more than just to do a good job. I guess I want to enjoy it. I want to have fun, relish the words and having someone to listen to them, if that makes sense.
Well, I guess we'll see what happens tomorrow. I'm not sure what time I'll be back tomorrow night, so I probably won't write about it here until Tuesday. But, please, think of me tomorrow! : )
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Eeeeeeeeee....
Okay, I was trying to do that cool thing that where the title of the entry is the lyric of the song that's playing right at the moment. Unfortunately, my IPod selected one of my many Celtic songs and I think this one's in Gaelic. Or, barely discernible English. Either way, the only thing I'm getting out of it is "Eeeeee." Whether that's the first syllable of the word or the last or something in the middle...I have no idea.
I know that my daily diatribe has not been much with the "daily" bit this week. I was home sick on Tuesday with that weird stress stomach thing that happens to me sometimes. Every time I describe it to someone, everyone says it sounds like an ulcer. But it only acts up a couple times a year, much less since I cut out caffeinated beverages, and I've been having it since I was nine (the one and only time I ever pleaded to go to the hospital, shocking myself and my parents).
Course, that first time, I'd eaten an entire bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. One of the big bags. Oh yeah, thank goodness for the metabolism of a nine year old! So, for awhile, there was a belief that it was a food allergy, triggered by something in the chips. But I've had them lots of times since then and few problems. The only cure for this seems to be to lie in bed in the fetal position after drinking so much milk (it's basic instead of acidic and seems to do something to help) that your stomach is cold until the pain stops. The point of this was not to make you feel sorry for me (though, did it work?) but instead to say that there was a good reason why I wasn't blogging.
Funny thing that happened to me today. I'm working away, more or less, on two projects simultaneously, and sort of working on revising two others. The revising part is usually the part that's hardest on me. Because by the time I have gotten to the end of a book, I'm ready to put it aside. Even if I like it, I'm just...done with it. But unfortunately for me, that's not the way it works. At least for me. So, I have to give myself some time away from it, one, to work up enthusiasm for it again, and two, to give myself time to see the gaping holes in plot, etc. (per Stephen King's method.)
[Tangent -- I love how people are so quick to rip into Stephen King for being "a commercial writer," basically slamming him for his ability to create a good story and have people want to buy it, but the people saying this about how he's so popular for no good reason continue to spell his name "Steven." I mean, obviously, he's not popular enough if seeing his name in the front window of every book store still hasn't taught you how to spell his name correctly! *wicked grin*]
Back to my point, I've been giving myself time away from those two projects that still need to be revised, expecting not to be ready for that yet. But just today, as I was commuting and thinking about nothing in particular, someone from one of those projects showed up, though I guess he's never that far away, and I couldn't believe how much I'd missed this person. I mean, my heart ached. (Though, I think some of this is because I will always feel this way about this person, just one of those favoritism things that shouldn't probably be, but you can't help it nonetheless. I wonder if other writers experience this -- the favoritism thing, I mean.) I love it when visits like this happen. Sometimes moments like these actually show up in the finished project, and that's the best, to be able to share these moments in the fullest detail you can render them.
Yes, I am aware that it sounds like crazy central around here again. But I wanted to write about the moment because they are rare and beautiful when they happen. This is what you look forward to as a writer, and it always seems to happen when you're not expecting it. And yes, I'm deliberately being vague in identifying who came to visit. For those who are not aware, I actually have a whole myriad of people in my head. It's just that only one collection of them has been released upon the public in The Silver Spoon. (Still it wouldn't be hard to figure out who I'm talking about, particularly those of you who read my interview with GottaWriteNetwork a few months ago *grin*)
Time for me to go home and watch The O.C.! Yeah, I'd probably get a lot more revising done if I watched less television, but I can't help it...I'm addicted.
I know that my daily diatribe has not been much with the "daily" bit this week. I was home sick on Tuesday with that weird stress stomach thing that happens to me sometimes. Every time I describe it to someone, everyone says it sounds like an ulcer. But it only acts up a couple times a year, much less since I cut out caffeinated beverages, and I've been having it since I was nine (the one and only time I ever pleaded to go to the hospital, shocking myself and my parents).
Course, that first time, I'd eaten an entire bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. One of the big bags. Oh yeah, thank goodness for the metabolism of a nine year old! So, for awhile, there was a belief that it was a food allergy, triggered by something in the chips. But I've had them lots of times since then and few problems. The only cure for this seems to be to lie in bed in the fetal position after drinking so much milk (it's basic instead of acidic and seems to do something to help) that your stomach is cold until the pain stops. The point of this was not to make you feel sorry for me (though, did it work?) but instead to say that there was a good reason why I wasn't blogging.
Funny thing that happened to me today. I'm working away, more or less, on two projects simultaneously, and sort of working on revising two others. The revising part is usually the part that's hardest on me. Because by the time I have gotten to the end of a book, I'm ready to put it aside. Even if I like it, I'm just...done with it. But unfortunately for me, that's not the way it works. At least for me. So, I have to give myself some time away from it, one, to work up enthusiasm for it again, and two, to give myself time to see the gaping holes in plot, etc. (per Stephen King's method.)
[Tangent -- I love how people are so quick to rip into Stephen King for being "a commercial writer," basically slamming him for his ability to create a good story and have people want to buy it, but the people saying this about how he's so popular for no good reason continue to spell his name "Steven." I mean, obviously, he's not popular enough if seeing his name in the front window of every book store still hasn't taught you how to spell his name correctly! *wicked grin*]
Back to my point, I've been giving myself time away from those two projects that still need to be revised, expecting not to be ready for that yet. But just today, as I was commuting and thinking about nothing in particular, someone from one of those projects showed up, though I guess he's never that far away, and I couldn't believe how much I'd missed this person. I mean, my heart ached. (Though, I think some of this is because I will always feel this way about this person, just one of those favoritism things that shouldn't probably be, but you can't help it nonetheless. I wonder if other writers experience this -- the favoritism thing, I mean.) I love it when visits like this happen. Sometimes moments like these actually show up in the finished project, and that's the best, to be able to share these moments in the fullest detail you can render them.
Yes, I am aware that it sounds like crazy central around here again. But I wanted to write about the moment because they are rare and beautiful when they happen. This is what you look forward to as a writer, and it always seems to happen when you're not expecting it. And yes, I'm deliberately being vague in identifying who came to visit. For those who are not aware, I actually have a whole myriad of people in my head. It's just that only one collection of them has been released upon the public in The Silver Spoon. (Still it wouldn't be hard to figure out who I'm talking about, particularly those of you who read my interview with GottaWriteNetwork a few months ago *grin*)
Time for me to go home and watch The O.C.! Yeah, I'd probably get a lot more revising done if I watched less television, but I can't help it...I'm addicted.
Monday, November 15, 2004
One week.../Weekend Writing
Next week at this time, I'll be about an hour and a half away from starting my reading. Eeeek! On the up side, I did go out and buy a new outfit this weekend, so that's taken care of at least. A really cool pink sweater (Yes, now that I've been told it's no longer forbidden for me to wear it, I am officially addicted to the color -- plus, I guess it's really "in" right now) and yet another pair of black pants. You can never have too many pairs of black pants. I'll go on record right now saying that.
However, I still need to actually read aloud the pages that I'll be reading next week. I've done that already once before the book was published. Reading aloud can help you hear your dialogue and find the clunky spots. But this time, I'll need to read it and revise, or at least note, any places where I stumble in reading. A sentence that's an inadvertent tongue twister or something. Here's the funny thing...I need to do this but I find myself reluctant to do it when my husband is in the house. Duh, Stacey. You're going to have to read aloud in front of a bunch of strangers who don't love you (necessarily) next week. Better learn to deal and fast.
I also worked on a query letter for my mystery this weekend. I took sort of a different approach to that. The more I'm reading about how genres are blending together, the more I think that my mystery could be a chicklit mystery instead of a cozy. The heroine is a young woman trying to get her life back on track and oh yeah, she happens to stumble across a dead body or two. The voice is first person and kind of fiesty (in my opinion). However, length is still an issue, so I may have to work on that. Go another round, create another draft. Oddly enough, this book is only on its second draft and my first readers have already read it. With The Silver Spoon, I lost count how many drafts I went through before I considered it remotely presentable. Maybe one more draft will help in this case.
And I worked on my outline for the sequel to The Silver Spoon. The part that I'm finding difficult about this is that most of my subplot, Zara discovering who and what she is, went into The Silver Spoon. It was originally supposed to be in Book Two. The subplot for Book Three was originally supposed to be more about accepting who she is and the consequences and the way it shapes her as a person. But because it was all the way out there in Book Three, I hadn't thought about this part of it as much. Now that it's in Book Two instead, I'm having to work a little harder at it than I'd like. Plus, as much as I hate to, I find myself trying to compare The Silver Spoon to Book Two. And they're just...different. Shocking revelations abound, never fear. But it's less about creating the world and more about the details of the world or explaining how we got to where we are, instead of dumping you off in the midst of chaos. Which is pretty much how the first book worked. Although, there is definitely more than a fair share of being dumped in chaos in this book too. Ah, well, we'll just have to see what the first readers think of it. But first, I have to finish the outline, so I can revise the draft accordingly. I also think any book in a series other than the first has two big jobs ahead of it. Living up to the first one (which might also explain why I'm brooding over this so much -- writers are always convinced that whatever they're working on currently sucks and their previous stuff was way better than this dreck) and further drawing out the world sketched out in the first book. I hope I've done that, though at this point, I've lost all ability to look at this thing with any hope of objectivity : ) But that is where my lovely, unpaid and very courageous first readers come in... *grin*
However, I still need to actually read aloud the pages that I'll be reading next week. I've done that already once before the book was published. Reading aloud can help you hear your dialogue and find the clunky spots. But this time, I'll need to read it and revise, or at least note, any places where I stumble in reading. A sentence that's an inadvertent tongue twister or something. Here's the funny thing...I need to do this but I find myself reluctant to do it when my husband is in the house. Duh, Stacey. You're going to have to read aloud in front of a bunch of strangers who don't love you (necessarily) next week. Better learn to deal and fast.
I also worked on a query letter for my mystery this weekend. I took sort of a different approach to that. The more I'm reading about how genres are blending together, the more I think that my mystery could be a chicklit mystery instead of a cozy. The heroine is a young woman trying to get her life back on track and oh yeah, she happens to stumble across a dead body or two. The voice is first person and kind of fiesty (in my opinion). However, length is still an issue, so I may have to work on that. Go another round, create another draft. Oddly enough, this book is only on its second draft and my first readers have already read it. With The Silver Spoon, I lost count how many drafts I went through before I considered it remotely presentable. Maybe one more draft will help in this case.
And I worked on my outline for the sequel to The Silver Spoon. The part that I'm finding difficult about this is that most of my subplot, Zara discovering who and what she is, went into The Silver Spoon. It was originally supposed to be in Book Two. The subplot for Book Three was originally supposed to be more about accepting who she is and the consequences and the way it shapes her as a person. But because it was all the way out there in Book Three, I hadn't thought about this part of it as much. Now that it's in Book Two instead, I'm having to work a little harder at it than I'd like. Plus, as much as I hate to, I find myself trying to compare The Silver Spoon to Book Two. And they're just...different. Shocking revelations abound, never fear. But it's less about creating the world and more about the details of the world or explaining how we got to where we are, instead of dumping you off in the midst of chaos. Which is pretty much how the first book worked. Although, there is definitely more than a fair share of being dumped in chaos in this book too. Ah, well, we'll just have to see what the first readers think of it. But first, I have to finish the outline, so I can revise the draft accordingly. I also think any book in a series other than the first has two big jobs ahead of it. Living up to the first one (which might also explain why I'm brooding over this so much -- writers are always convinced that whatever they're working on currently sucks and their previous stuff was way better than this dreck) and further drawing out the world sketched out in the first book. I hope I've done that, though at this point, I've lost all ability to look at this thing with any hope of objectivity : ) But that is where my lovely, unpaid and very courageous first readers come in... *grin*
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Photos from my last booksigning
I think these will eventually go in the photo gallery on my site, but in the meantime, I thought I'd post them here... Also, because my friend and web technical genius is now a new daddy (Congratulations, Ed and Deb!!!) and I'm not confident in my ability to update my website unsupervised.
My dad and mom are hanging out with me here...The first booksigning with my whole family (my brother, sister and husband are hiding out of view here).
Yes, I think my eyes are closed. But at least my mouth isn't hanging open. The awesome sign with my book cover (on the right side of the photo) was created by my friend, Donna. Thanks, Donna!
Me (again with the eyes almost closed, that's just how I smile), my sister and part of my husband in this picture. And that's Chris on the right, the superhelpful Borders guy who helped get everything ready for my signing. Yea! Thanks, Chris!!
One of my furry babies, Joe. No, this is not at a book signing, but it was the same weekend, so I couldn't resist. Hey...I think that's my foot in the picture.
My other furry baby, Snostorm. All hail the Snow Queen!
And finally, just because it's fun...
The birthday people. Oh yeah, I'm adopted...right. It's freaky sometimes how much my sister and I look like each other. I once glanced at a photo of her and thought it was me for a second! Course, she's thinner and younger...so it was only for a second : )
My dad and mom are hanging out with me here...The first booksigning with my whole family (my brother, sister and husband are hiding out of view here).
Yes, I think my eyes are closed. But at least my mouth isn't hanging open. The awesome sign with my book cover (on the right side of the photo) was created by my friend, Donna. Thanks, Donna!
Me (again with the eyes almost closed, that's just how I smile), my sister and part of my husband in this picture. And that's Chris on the right, the superhelpful Borders guy who helped get everything ready for my signing. Yea! Thanks, Chris!!
One of my furry babies, Joe. No, this is not at a book signing, but it was the same weekend, so I couldn't resist. Hey...I think that's my foot in the picture.
My other furry baby, Snostorm. All hail the Snow Queen!
And finally, just because it's fun...
The birthday people. Oh yeah, I'm adopted...right. It's freaky sometimes how much my sister and I look like each other. I once glanced at a photo of her and thought it was me for a second! Course, she's thinner and younger...so it was only for a second : )
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Aaaack!
My reading at the Red Lion pub is in just over a week (Chicago, November 22 at 7:30 p.m.)...and I'm worried. Worried about what, you ask?
How about:
--Tripping and falling in front of all those people on my way to the microphone.
--Being so nervous that I speedread the entire time and no one understands a word of what I'm saying and I run out of reading material less than half way through.
--Being such a boring reader that no one is interested in what I'm reading even though a building blows up in the first chapter. Do i do voices?!? Do I just read it the way I hear it in my head? With inflections and everything? Will that seem too much like I'm trying to be something I'm not, namely an actress? Thank goodness no one in my book has an accent! I just read a whole bunch of online stuff about how people hate going to readings only to find the writer that they liked wasn't too hot at reading out loud. Eeek.
And of course, my favorite...
--Being so nervous that I have to flee the stage for fearing of throwing up on myself or someone else.
The funny thing is I'm actually an attention hog. I like being in front of people, talking to them, telling stories, making presentations, etc. But reading to them is a different animal. In meetings at Corporate America where someone is reading to me from a document, I always think, "I can read this myself, thank you."
You'd think reading would be the easiest thing, right? You don't even have to think. Just read. But aaack. I'd much rather improvise off the top of my head than read something aloud. Some of this could also be fallout from a really bad Valpo experience in which I had to read aloud something I'd written. At the last minute, the instructor told me I needed to "act" more. There are very good reasons why I'm not an actress. And of course, the class was full of unfriendlies -- one in particular. Eeesh. I shudder just remembering it.
Plus there's the whole "what do I wear" dilemma. I have my bohemian, all black outfit, probably appropriate "in the city" clothing. But the sweater is, uh, snug. And that's the last thing I want to be thinking about when I'm reading. So, I'm thinking this may call for a new outfit. Too bad my brother's girlfriend isn't going to come to town in the next week. She and my husband picked out the pink outfit that I wore to several of my summer book signings. I liked it because it was trendy but comfy as well. Plus, it was pink!!! As a redhead, it was verboten for me to wear pink growing up. "It clashes with your hair!" But this was a nice soft pink that apparently did NOT clash with my hair. So, I'll probably have to do some shopping in the next week -- which I HATE doing -- especially alone. (BTW, Red-heads don't wear pink! is totally the title of my memoir -- I'm claiming it now.)
I'm also debating about what to do for the reading. I told them I would read The Silver Spoon and I will. But there's a natural break after the first three chapters, where it would be good to stop a reading. However, that may not be enough material for 40 to 60 minutes of reading. So, I'm thinking of taking Bitter Pill and reading a chapter or two of that. But Bitter Pill has not been published, which makes me feel a little squeamy about reading it. Like publishing is a seal of approval. Which, in some ways, is true. Publishing is sort of a seal of approval, a sign that someone else finds the book acceptable or entertaining. But everyone who has read Bitter Pill (Stacy G., Becky D., Deb, and Susan) seems to like it.
***Those of you who've read Bitter Pill, please write me or comment below and let me know what you think of this idea***
Stay tuned for more event induced anxiety. I'm going to need help from you guys. Particularly in the joke arena. You know, something to warm the audience up a bit? But I'll save that for another gargantuan entry : )
Thanks for sticking with me. I appreciate it.
How about:
--Tripping and falling in front of all those people on my way to the microphone.
--Being so nervous that I speedread the entire time and no one understands a word of what I'm saying and I run out of reading material less than half way through.
--Being such a boring reader that no one is interested in what I'm reading even though a building blows up in the first chapter. Do i do voices?!? Do I just read it the way I hear it in my head? With inflections and everything? Will that seem too much like I'm trying to be something I'm not, namely an actress? Thank goodness no one in my book has an accent! I just read a whole bunch of online stuff about how people hate going to readings only to find the writer that they liked wasn't too hot at reading out loud. Eeek.
And of course, my favorite...
--Being so nervous that I have to flee the stage for fearing of throwing up on myself or someone else.
The funny thing is I'm actually an attention hog. I like being in front of people, talking to them, telling stories, making presentations, etc. But reading to them is a different animal. In meetings at Corporate America where someone is reading to me from a document, I always think, "I can read this myself, thank you."
You'd think reading would be the easiest thing, right? You don't even have to think. Just read. But aaack. I'd much rather improvise off the top of my head than read something aloud. Some of this could also be fallout from a really bad Valpo experience in which I had to read aloud something I'd written. At the last minute, the instructor told me I needed to "act" more. There are very good reasons why I'm not an actress. And of course, the class was full of unfriendlies -- one in particular. Eeesh. I shudder just remembering it.
Plus there's the whole "what do I wear" dilemma. I have my bohemian, all black outfit, probably appropriate "in the city" clothing. But the sweater is, uh, snug. And that's the last thing I want to be thinking about when I'm reading. So, I'm thinking this may call for a new outfit. Too bad my brother's girlfriend isn't going to come to town in the next week. She and my husband picked out the pink outfit that I wore to several of my summer book signings. I liked it because it was trendy but comfy as well. Plus, it was pink!!! As a redhead, it was verboten for me to wear pink growing up. "It clashes with your hair!" But this was a nice soft pink that apparently did NOT clash with my hair. So, I'll probably have to do some shopping in the next week -- which I HATE doing -- especially alone. (BTW, Red-heads don't wear pink! is totally the title of my memoir -- I'm claiming it now.)
I'm also debating about what to do for the reading. I told them I would read The Silver Spoon and I will. But there's a natural break after the first three chapters, where it would be good to stop a reading. However, that may not be enough material for 40 to 60 minutes of reading. So, I'm thinking of taking Bitter Pill and reading a chapter or two of that. But Bitter Pill has not been published, which makes me feel a little squeamy about reading it. Like publishing is a seal of approval. Which, in some ways, is true. Publishing is sort of a seal of approval, a sign that someone else finds the book acceptable or entertaining. But everyone who has read Bitter Pill (Stacy G., Becky D., Deb, and Susan) seems to like it.
***Those of you who've read Bitter Pill, please write me or comment below and let me know what you think of this idea***
Stay tuned for more event induced anxiety. I'm going to need help from you guys. Particularly in the joke arena. You know, something to warm the audience up a bit? But I'll save that for another gargantuan entry : )
Thanks for sticking with me. I appreciate it.
The dangers of IPod...
Oh, yeah, I'm singing out loud or at least lip syncing and looking like a complete idiot. Oh, well. I downloaded Annie Lennox's Little Bird, Alanis Morrissette's Eight Easy Steps,The Killers' Somebody Told Me, Switchfoot's Dare you to Move, and Jem's Maybe I'm Amazed (a remake, obviously). I love this.
Sometimes I'm so impressed with song lyrics. Just how they can get across so much emotion or a provocative thought with such an economy of words. I suck at that. My friend Stacy G. and I often go back and forth because I don't know how she creates such powerful poetry (I mean usually 100 words or less for some fairly heavy ideas) and she says she can't imagine writing something of longer length, like a book (though she'd totally be good at it.)
Some of my favorite lyrics (major bonus points if you can identify all the artists who sing these lyrics! Almost all of them have been on the radio at one point or another):
--"I've been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding." (Hee. My brother and I both agree on this one. And if you think it's harsh, trying driving anywhere in the Chicago area when you have to be somewhere in a very short amount of time. The use of a turn signal to actually indicate a turn -- versus purely decorative purposes as the car travels miles and miles without actually turning -- is a foreign concept here.)
--"I'm standing in the middle of the desert, waiting for my ship to come in." (I love this one because I know that feeling.)
--"It's such a muddy line between the things you want and the things you have to do."
--"I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you. I never thought it would hurt just to hear 'I do' and 'I do.'" (I tear up every time I hear this song)
--"Come to me now, and lay your hands over me, even if it's a lie, say it will be all right, and I shall believe." (Yep, another tear jerker for me.)
--"But I fear I have nothing to give, I have so much to lose here in this lonely place, tangled up in our embrace, there's nothing I'd like better than to fall." (I love the words to almost all of her songs. I think she's an amazing writer.)
--"It doesn't matter what I want. It doesn't matter what I need. It doesn't matter if I cry. Don't matter if I bleed. " (Words for anyone who has the experienced the ending of relationship and realized that there's nothing that can be done about it.)
--"Oh, you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes. My body aches to breathe your breath. Your words keep me alive."
--"How to sabotage your fantasies by fears of success" and "How to keep smiling when you're thinking of killing yourself."
Funny story about song lyrics -- I love to sing along to songs, even when I don't know the words, but I work hard, listening to the song over and over again, trying to get the words right. Sometimes, though, I cannot get it right, no matter how hard I try. For years, I mean years, I though the lyrics to one of Cher's songs were, "Words are like whalebones. They move you sometimes." It made sense to me. It was the one with the video where she was dancing around on a ship. And whalebones would be rather sad and moving. However, the real lyrics are, "Words are like weapons. They wound you sometimes."
Okay, so yeah, that makes more sense : )
Sometimes I'm so impressed with song lyrics. Just how they can get across so much emotion or a provocative thought with such an economy of words. I suck at that. My friend Stacy G. and I often go back and forth because I don't know how she creates such powerful poetry (I mean usually 100 words or less for some fairly heavy ideas) and she says she can't imagine writing something of longer length, like a book (though she'd totally be good at it.)
Some of my favorite lyrics (major bonus points if you can identify all the artists who sing these lyrics! Almost all of them have been on the radio at one point or another):
--"I've been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding." (Hee. My brother and I both agree on this one. And if you think it's harsh, trying driving anywhere in the Chicago area when you have to be somewhere in a very short amount of time. The use of a turn signal to actually indicate a turn -- versus purely decorative purposes as the car travels miles and miles without actually turning -- is a foreign concept here.)
--"I'm standing in the middle of the desert, waiting for my ship to come in." (I love this one because I know that feeling.)
--"It's such a muddy line between the things you want and the things you have to do."
--"I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you. I never thought it would hurt just to hear 'I do' and 'I do.'" (I tear up every time I hear this song)
--"Come to me now, and lay your hands over me, even if it's a lie, say it will be all right, and I shall believe." (Yep, another tear jerker for me.)
--"But I fear I have nothing to give, I have so much to lose here in this lonely place, tangled up in our embrace, there's nothing I'd like better than to fall." (I love the words to almost all of her songs. I think she's an amazing writer.)
--"It doesn't matter what I want. It doesn't matter what I need. It doesn't matter if I cry. Don't matter if I bleed. " (Words for anyone who has the experienced the ending of relationship and realized that there's nothing that can be done about it.)
--"Oh, you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes. My body aches to breathe your breath. Your words keep me alive."
--"How to sabotage your fantasies by fears of success" and "How to keep smiling when you're thinking of killing yourself."
Funny story about song lyrics -- I love to sing along to songs, even when I don't know the words, but I work hard, listening to the song over and over again, trying to get the words right. Sometimes, though, I cannot get it right, no matter how hard I try. For years, I mean years, I though the lyrics to one of Cher's songs were, "Words are like whalebones. They move you sometimes." It made sense to me. It was the one with the video where she was dancing around on a ship. And whalebones would be rather sad and moving. However, the real lyrics are, "Words are like weapons. They wound you sometimes."
Okay, so yeah, that makes more sense : )
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Yes, I am a big sci-fi geek.
I've already watched the trailer for Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith at least five times already. Aside from the fact that this is the part of the story that I've been waiting and waiting for (what pushes Anakin to become Vader, how do Luke and Leia get separated, how is it that Vader knows he has a son but not a daughter when said children are twins, what *gulp* exactly happens to their mother and how can Leia have memories of her [see dialogue between Luke and Leia in RotJ] when Leia had to have been hidden with Bail Organa's family on Alderaan [side note: I always want to type that as Oregano...] since birth in order for her father not to have known about her, right?), I was over the moon to see and hear Alec Guiness as Obi Wan again, explaning everything to Luke while we got to see visuals of everything he was talking about. I get chills every time I watch it. Seriously.
Plus, it's all coming together. I think I caught a glimpse of Chewbacca and if it wasn't him, other wookies. C3PO and R2-D2 look like themselves. And whew, that Anakin kid went from looking too teen angsty (We can clearly see where Luke got his whining ability--"I was going to the Tashi station to pick up some power converters"-- Hee.) to bad mojo evil-vibe looking guy. I'm impressed. I wouldn't even have recognized him had I not know the actor was the same.
What is it about Star Wars? Princess Leia is the first character I ever remember wanting to be in real life. (Though, in all honesty, there may also have been a Wonder Woman or Laura Ingalls Wilder moment in there too). I loved her snappy comebacks to everything Han Solo said ("I am not a committee!"). She was smart AND pretty, and hello? royalty. But you know, some part of me wanted to be like Luke too. Starting off on that adventure. Fighting the good fight. Coming through in the clutch to save everyone. What is it about this setting and these characters that pull at so many people? And it definitely has a lot to do with characters. Yes, the special effects are/were unbelievable for their time, but it's the characters that bring people back time and again (and again and again).
-Luke feels trapped by his current situation, obligated by familial bonds to be something/someone he's not. That's probably something we've all felt at one time or another.
-Leia is kind of a control freak. She doesn't even break down when Alderaan and her adoptive family is blown up. She holds everything together like the weight of the world, and the fate of the rebellion, rests on her shoulders. And hey, to some extent, it probably does.
-Han (probably my second crush, my first one was on Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk), a troublemaker looking for someplace to belong. He doesn't want to admit it, would rather not belong anywhere because it's easier, but it seems he can't help that impulse within him. And Princess Leia's probably not a small factor in there either : )
When you look at them this way, at least for me, it's easier to see the appeal. Everyone has been or felt like one of these characters at one time or another in their lives. Maybe more than one at at time. I think that's the key to creating a good story of any kind, on film, paper, etc. You have to have characters that people can relate to in a personal way. Something in those characters that makes people sit up and go, "Yeah, I know that feeling." Because I think one of the gifts of any good story is making people feel that they're not alone, even if they don't realize that's what's happening. Why else do characters like Bridget Jones strike such a chord? Women read that and go, "I am that girl." Or, "I was that girl." In the case of Star Wars, I think it's probably relating more to the dilemmas of each character rather than the character as a whole. People probably don't look at Luke and go, "Hey, I am that guy." But they nod their heads when they see his frustration about wanting to get out and see the universe, to do something grander than moisture farming.
I've blathered on about this long enough. Can you tell I love Star Wars yet? : ) I love Star Trek too for anyone who thinks I'm landing only on one side of that rivalry. I put the DVD of Star Trek IV on my Christmas list. "I think he had a little too much LDS." "LDS?!?" Hee!
By the way, if anyone has any theories (not actual spoilers, though) about any of my Star Wars questions listed at the top of this entry, please share them with me!
Plus, it's all coming together. I think I caught a glimpse of Chewbacca and if it wasn't him, other wookies. C3PO and R2-D2 look like themselves. And whew, that Anakin kid went from looking too teen angsty (We can clearly see where Luke got his whining ability--"I was going to the Tashi station to pick up some power converters"-- Hee.) to bad mojo evil-vibe looking guy. I'm impressed. I wouldn't even have recognized him had I not know the actor was the same.
What is it about Star Wars? Princess Leia is the first character I ever remember wanting to be in real life. (Though, in all honesty, there may also have been a Wonder Woman or Laura Ingalls Wilder moment in there too). I loved her snappy comebacks to everything Han Solo said ("I am not a committee!"). She was smart AND pretty, and hello? royalty. But you know, some part of me wanted to be like Luke too. Starting off on that adventure. Fighting the good fight. Coming through in the clutch to save everyone. What is it about this setting and these characters that pull at so many people? And it definitely has a lot to do with characters. Yes, the special effects are/were unbelievable for their time, but it's the characters that bring people back time and again (and again and again).
-Luke feels trapped by his current situation, obligated by familial bonds to be something/someone he's not. That's probably something we've all felt at one time or another.
-Leia is kind of a control freak. She doesn't even break down when Alderaan and her adoptive family is blown up. She holds everything together like the weight of the world, and the fate of the rebellion, rests on her shoulders. And hey, to some extent, it probably does.
-Han (probably my second crush, my first one was on Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk), a troublemaker looking for someplace to belong. He doesn't want to admit it, would rather not belong anywhere because it's easier, but it seems he can't help that impulse within him. And Princess Leia's probably not a small factor in there either : )
When you look at them this way, at least for me, it's easier to see the appeal. Everyone has been or felt like one of these characters at one time or another in their lives. Maybe more than one at at time. I think that's the key to creating a good story of any kind, on film, paper, etc. You have to have characters that people can relate to in a personal way. Something in those characters that makes people sit up and go, "Yeah, I know that feeling." Because I think one of the gifts of any good story is making people feel that they're not alone, even if they don't realize that's what's happening. Why else do characters like Bridget Jones strike such a chord? Women read that and go, "I am that girl." Or, "I was that girl." In the case of Star Wars, I think it's probably relating more to the dilemmas of each character rather than the character as a whole. People probably don't look at Luke and go, "Hey, I am that guy." But they nod their heads when they see his frustration about wanting to get out and see the universe, to do something grander than moisture farming.
I've blathered on about this long enough. Can you tell I love Star Wars yet? : ) I love Star Trek too for anyone who thinks I'm landing only on one side of that rivalry. I put the DVD of Star Trek IV on my Christmas list. "I think he had a little too much LDS." "LDS?!?" Hee!
By the way, if anyone has any theories (not actual spoilers, though) about any of my Star Wars questions listed at the top of this entry, please share them with me!
Monday, November 08, 2004
*Sigh*
Yesterday was a perfect day. It's the kind of day I always imagine when I think longingly about being able to write at home full-time. I got up sort of late (9:30) and the sun was just pouring into my writing room, making these big happy rectangles of warm carpeting. I love that. Snowy loves that too. It's just like one of those "aaaahhh" moments. Ah -- in this case indicates satisfaction, not a fall from some place high up.
I came in with my tea and graham crackers, which is breakfast these days and sat down behind the computer. I got a couple more pages on my current project, which is excellent! Then I decided to get dressed and take the dogs out to potty. I got dressed in my favorite lounge-around-the-house flannel pants and a Valpo sweatshirt that's probably seven years old and showing its age (still my absolute favorite sweatshirt though) -- I love it when I get to dress like this. It doesn't happen nearly enough. I took the dogs outside and enjoyed the relatively mild weather (as well as the newly tidied garage, my Saturday project -- No, we still can't get cars in there yet, but we're a lot closer *grin*).
I brought the dogs back in and decided to be brave. I'd had bits of dialogue, scenes and characters floating around in my head for weeks now on a particular idea. But I'd been struggling with it. A lot of it for me is being afraid. Being afraid that it will be crap. Being afraid that I can't do it. But yesterday, something moved me to try. So, I went back into my sunny, happy writing room, settled myself into my big comfy desk chair and wrote for about three more hours. And it was fun! I loved it. This is what I love about writing. Sitting down and enjoying it. Having fun with it. This is what makes everything else worth it. I'm trying to decide how to describe it. It's sort of like that second when you walk into the living room on Christmas morning and see all the gifts piled up. Or, having this great, wonderful happy secret that just fills you up inside.
I love it. And I'm so grateful every time I get to experience it.
I came in with my tea and graham crackers, which is breakfast these days and sat down behind the computer. I got a couple more pages on my current project, which is excellent! Then I decided to get dressed and take the dogs out to potty. I got dressed in my favorite lounge-around-the-house flannel pants and a Valpo sweatshirt that's probably seven years old and showing its age (still my absolute favorite sweatshirt though) -- I love it when I get to dress like this. It doesn't happen nearly enough. I took the dogs outside and enjoyed the relatively mild weather (as well as the newly tidied garage, my Saturday project -- No, we still can't get cars in there yet, but we're a lot closer *grin*).
I brought the dogs back in and decided to be brave. I'd had bits of dialogue, scenes and characters floating around in my head for weeks now on a particular idea. But I'd been struggling with it. A lot of it for me is being afraid. Being afraid that it will be crap. Being afraid that I can't do it. But yesterday, something moved me to try. So, I went back into my sunny, happy writing room, settled myself into my big comfy desk chair and wrote for about three more hours. And it was fun! I loved it. This is what I love about writing. Sitting down and enjoying it. Having fun with it. This is what makes everything else worth it. I'm trying to decide how to describe it. It's sort of like that second when you walk into the living room on Christmas morning and see all the gifts piled up. Or, having this great, wonderful happy secret that just fills you up inside.
I love it. And I'm so grateful every time I get to experience it.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Starting on page 15?
This new project, the one I'm sort of working on in the sly, is driving me crazy. I don't know the opening scene. I know all kinds of other things, all kinds of other stuff that happens in the story, but not the darn opening scene. It's like pushing a boulder up hill and then letting roll down the other side. I know what kicks off the action in the story, but I can't figure out what gets us to that point. I'm actually contemplating something rather radical....not starting with the first page. I want to write this thing so badly that I'm thinking about just writing what I know so far. Out of order and everything! The sad/ironic/funny part is that I've often advised people to do the just this same exact thing. But I'm finding it hard to put my own advice in practice. I've always been a "start at the beginning" kind of writer. That's the rigid, detail-obsessed part of me showing through!
The funny thing is I bet writing out of order would keep me from worrying too much about the quality of the draft. I mean, how can you obsess over making something perfect when you know that you're writing things out of order, scenes that aren't even connected to one another?
I don't know. It might be a little too radical for me. I'll have to think about it some more. Maybe try it and see if it works for me. The whole problem would be solved if *someone* would just speak up and how it all starts. But that's not happening...which means I'm probably doing something wrong. *Sigh* Oh, well, it will work itself out eventually.
Talk to you tomorrow.
The funny thing is I bet writing out of order would keep me from worrying too much about the quality of the draft. I mean, how can you obsess over making something perfect when you know that you're writing things out of order, scenes that aren't even connected to one another?
I don't know. It might be a little too radical for me. I'll have to think about it some more. Maybe try it and see if it works for me. The whole problem would be solved if *someone* would just speak up and how it all starts. But that's not happening...which means I'm probably doing something wrong. *Sigh* Oh, well, it will work itself out eventually.
Talk to you tomorrow.
Monday, November 01, 2004
A whole bunch of stuff...
The good news I was talking about last week is this...Twilight Tales, a weekly fiction series, has invited me to come and do a reading at the Red Lion Pub in Chicago. Yea!!! I'm so excited and horribly nervous. Basically, it's just me, my book and the audience for 40 to 60 minutes. Here's the information about the event. If you live in the Chicago area, please try to come. I'd love to see some friendly, non-threatening faces in the crowd.
November 22 at 7:30 p.m.
Twilight Tales
Red Lion Pub
2446 N. Lincoln Avenue
Chicago, IL
$4.00
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Another good review...
Paranormal Romance posted a review of The Silver Spoon. Sophie Murphy says, "If you like sci-fi you'll love this book. For those not into science fiction this book is still a great book to read!! I highly recommend it." Click here to read the entire review.
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Schaumburg Library has my book!
I don't know about you, but I never used to think about HOW libraries got their books. I honestly never thought about it. Turns out libraries buy their books. Which means with the limited funding, as most libraries have, it's a huge deal when they decide to invest some of those funds in a book by a new, unknown author.
So, thank you very much Schaumburg Library *grin* I couldn't be more thrilled to know that my book is in such great company! I'm totally tempted to go and visit it, just so I can see it on the shelves. That's what I used to do when I was struggling with staying motivated to write. I would go into libraries and bookstores and find the spot on the shelves where my book would go. Most of the time, if it was the sci-fi/horror/fantasy section, I ended up between Stephen King and Dean Koontz. Not bad, not bad at all, I say. : )
So, if you live in the northwest suburbs and want to check my book out, visit the Schaumburg Library on Roselle Road. Also, if anyone happens to find my book in another library, please let me know! I'll post it here and give you credit for finding it : )
One last thing...Huge thanks to my mom and sister who were in Barnes and Noble this weekend and decided to see if they could find my book on the shelf. I left one copy with the Peoria store when I signed there a couple of months ago. The copy had sold, which is excellent and when they asked one of the staff members to look it up, they found out that two more copies were on order! Woo-hoo!!! And they also visited with a woman who happened to be in the sci-fi section and told her about my book. My mom gave her a bookmark. Yea, Mom! Thanks!!! Nobody loves you (or your book) like your family : ) Best book promotion team out there.
Talk to you tomorrow!!!
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